


I Love You

by Halevetica



Category: Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Clingy Crowley, Confessions, Ineffable Husbands (Good Omens), M/M, Paranoid Crowley, Post-Canon, Requested, Worried Aziraphale (Good Omens), slightly jealous Crowley
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-03
Updated: 2019-07-03
Packaged: 2020-06-03 14:07:02
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 913
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19465570
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Halevetica/pseuds/Halevetica
Summary: Aziraphale notices Crowley acting strange and questions him about it.





	I Love You

Crowley's flat was nothing like Aziraphale's. It was neat and orderly with silk sheets and a velvet sofa. It had glass sculptures and paintings from several of the greats. Aziraphale liked it despite how different it was to his own, which was cluttered with books and a tartan sofa, a collection of coffee cups and linen bedding.

Aziraphale was staying with Crowley for a few days, mostly because Crowley was worried the archangels would show back up at Aziraphale's place. The angel had begrudgingly agreed.

It was day two and Aziraphale had noticed Crowley's behavior was off. The demon sat a little closer to him than normal and seemed restless when Aziraphale sat down with a book.

At the moment, Aziraphale was making a cup of tea while Crowley watched from the entry to the kitchen.

"Is everything alright, dear?" Aziraphale asked as he stirred in his milk.

"Fine, fine," Crowley waved a hand dismissively.

Aziraphale took his cup to the living room and sat on the red velvet couch. He sipped the hot liquid as he heard Crowley in the kitchen clanging around.

A few moments later, Crowley came out with his own cup, which was odd because Crowley never drank tea.

The demon sat next to Aziraphale, a bit too close if he was being honest.

"You sure you're alright?" Aziraphale asked again, his eyes on the demon next to him.

"Just having a cuppa with my angel, is that alright?" Crowley huffed, glaring down at the hot liquid that assaulted his tongue.

"Your angel?" Aziraphale raised a brow at the phrasing.

"My friend, you know what I mean," Crowley snapped, his eyes still on the cup in his hand.

Just then there was a knock on the door.

"Are you expecting someone?" Aziraphale asked setting his cup down.

"Of course not, do I look like the sort that has company?"

"I'm company," the angel pointed out, making his way towards the door.

"You don't count," Crowley screwed his nose.

"Delivery for a Mr. A.Z. Fell and Mr. Anthony Crowley," a bored voice said from behind a large plush bear.

"Oh my heavens."

"What in blazing hell?"

Crowley and Aziraphale exclaimed at the same time.

"Who's it from?" Aziraphale asked taking the bear.

"A one Marjorie Potts," The man behind the bear spoke, now holding out a clipboard for Crowley to sign.

"Thanks for saving the day, love Sergeant Shadwell and Madame Tracy," Aziraphale read from the tag around the bear's neck.

"What the bloody hell are we supposed to do with that?" Crowley sneered as he closed the door.

"It is rather large. But it's very soft," Aziraphale hugged the bear tightly, it stood almost as tall at the angel, shy a foot or two.

Crowley glared at the bear. "If you want something to hold, you've got me, you don't need this blasted thing," he huffed.

With a snap of his fingers the bear became no bigger than a drinking glass.

"Crowley," Aziraphale tutted. "What has gotten into you lately?"

"I don't know what you're on about," Crowley shrugged, slumping onto his couch.

"You've been saying and doing things that aren't normal for you. You insisted I stay here though it's almost certain that heaven and hell won't be bothering us." Aziraphale waved a hand around the flat.

"You can't be too careful."

You don't drink tea," Aziraphale gestured towards Crowley's cup of mostly untouched tea.

"I could."

"You got seemingly jealous over a plush toy," Aziraphale held up the tiny bear.

"I didn't."

"You called me your angel."

"I just meant..."

"You said if I wanted to hold something, I had you."

"I said that out loud?"

"What is going on with you?" Aziraphale huffed, crossing his arms over his chest, staring expectantly down at the demon.

Crowley sighed, standing. "You want the truth, angel? I lost you. I went to that bookshop and I couldn't find you. I can't decipher regular fire from hell fire. I thought they got to you. I thought you were gone for good. I have you again and I'm not gonna lose you, not ever. I need you Aziraphale. So yes, I asked you to stay, and yes, I'm being clingy and jealous and I'm sorry. I can't help it. I love you and-" Crowley's eyes went wide as did Aziraphale's.

It wasn't like the two of them weren't aware of how the other felt, but neither one had ever said it allowed. Six thousand years of pining for one another. Six thousand years of stolen glances and secret lunches.

"Crowley, you've never said that before," Aziraphale's expression softened.

Crowley remained silent. He could use that bath of holy water right about now.

"You know, we don't have to pretend anymore. We've rebelled. Heaven and Hell don't want us anymore anyway. Whose to say we can't admit these feelings aloud now?" Aziraphale took a step towards Crowley who was still silent, but his eyes were now curious and hopeful.

"I love you too, Crowley. And I'm sorry I worried you, but I promise you'll never lose me. You don't have to pretend to like tea or be jealous of a teddy bear."

Crowley felt his resolve slipping, he stepped forward placing his hands on Aziraphale's cheeks and leaned their foreheads together. "I've been dying to hear you say that for so long, angel."

Aziraphale reached up, grabbing Crowley's wrists gently. "I promise to say it every day from now on."

(requested)


End file.
